Fridaz Theme Music

And the sky is a hazy shade of summer. Good morning from Yachats on the Oregon coast, where it’s 56 F with a marine layer blending blues and grays with the sky and the Pacific. Sunshine has roared over the eastern mountains. We don’t know where today’s battle between weather elements will take us. Yesterday was sharply clear all day long with a sunset unfettered by a marine layer. Forecasts yesterday were teasing us with suggestions that today’s high would find 70 F. Now they’re saying that it isn’t going past 65 F…again.

Ocean splash booms are a familiar these days, but a coverlet of fresh silence stays on us. I’ve not heard a train, siren, helicopter, or aircraft in many sleeps. All are usual sidekicks to every mundane venture outside the house door where we live in semi-rural, semi-urban southern Oregon. Serenity now.

News was shut out like a bad smell yesterday. Too much sunshine and good vibes distracting us, at least for one fortunate day. I did see that a judge ruled that Abina Habba is not lawfully serving as a judge. His ruling is not being enforced to allow the usual appeals. Wouldn’t be surprised to hear later that the judge’s observations about procedures being flouted and requirements ignored is waved away like a gnat annoying a MAGA ear.

Today’s song is “White Wedding” by Billy Idol. It’s our friends’ 34th anniversary. He and she recounted courtship tales and followed up with wedding day memories. She related that they kicked off their fancy wedding duds and played volleyball in the sand. That was an appropriate homage to how they hooked up, by noticing one another on the volleyball court. Anyway, The Neurons, being the jerks they are, heard all this and summoned “White Wedding”. This is a fascinating acoustic version.

May grace and peace hold and keep you. I’m depending on coffee once again. Onward and upward, here we go. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Decemberspect

It’s December 5, 2024. Thursday. Someone has taken a roller brush and painted the sky with thin smoky gray and white. It’s poor mixing, with tendrils of the gray sometimes thickened into a rich vein. Patching blue shows through. I take an eastern blister of white as the sun.

Morose is the word for that scene. It’s 38 F locally, 40 to 42 in other town zones. We’ll see high temperatures in the low to mid fifties.

First, happy birthday to my little sister. Point of order, she is a grandmother. Mom’s life disrupted sis’s life but sis survived and reformed herself as an intelligent, caring, forthright individual. She’s a strong person and I admire her for so many facets of who she is.

I read Jan Ressenger’s post, “Trump’s Threatened Immigration Deportations Would Traumatize Students and Disrupt Public Schools”, this morning. She writes about the impact on children and school systems, and how school systems step up to help their studencts embroiled in the mess. As one superintendent summarized it, ‘We went into kind of a Mom and Dad mode and just cared for kids.’

Our fear-based right wing so disappoints me. Many of our right-wingers profess to be good Christians. Naturally, I ponder what our nation’s founders would think of the right wing’s myopic attacks on immigrants. Yes, what would Jesus do? Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas. The right wing is slowly emerging as a darkly evil and inhumane force.

Away from that. WhenI looked out and spied the mostly white sky, the morning mental music stream (Trademark seceded) churned with “White Wedding” by Billy Idol. The Neurons thought, white, and went with it.

Get positive, be strong, have coffee. Coffee and I just renewed our vows once again. Keeps our relationship fresh. Here’s the music.

Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sleepy

Good afternoon from Ashlandia. Sunny and 56 F, this Thursday afternoon is muy different from our launching point. Starting at 35 F, fog descended on us, doing a suburb turn at shutting down the world to wandering car lights and noises behind a curtain.

So, still no snow. A friend who resides above Mt Ashland, which is our local ski resort, told us yesterday there was little snow and the morning temperature was 40 F. Snow isn’t in the immediate future. Meawhile, water is on our mind. The town is finally getting around to building a new water treatment plant. They’ve been talking about this for years. In the time where they wallied around it, the price has gone up; five years ago, the intended size was cut to reduce costs, and the price has has double, to about 70 mill. To pay for it requires our water prices to increase by 10% each year for the next six years. That’s on top of an average water bill which is the third highest in Oregon at 61.71 a month. Look at it compares to our neighbors, Medford (32.13), Phoenix (45.97) and Talent (47.86).

Happy solstice as well, as this is December 21, 2023. We used to celebrate the winter solstice with company, fires, drink, cake, soups, salads, and bread. Then, come COVID, we shut down and haven’t picked it back up.

Our morning was spent on grocery shopping as we diced with traffic and plied the cement river called I-5 up the highway to Medford. Costco was hellabusy while Trader Joe’s was casual, and Target was busy but tired. After those stops, we paused at a restaurant to scarf down food like we were starving cats and then headed back home, a nap, and more errands. Now we pick up the remains of the day.

Today’s music is Billy Idol’s rockabilly cover of “To Be A Lover” out of 1986. The Neurons stuck it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark rockin’) after my wife’s comment about something elicted “Have mercy,” as my response. Hearing that, The Neurons ran with it and the song was soon busy in my head. I’d never seen any video of it until now, and watching today, I laughed, remembering Idol’s sneering attempts to lather everything with sexual energy. So 1980s.

Stay pos, be strong, and enjoy your solstice whether it’s summer or winter.

Snowsday’s Theme Music

The rear door was cracked open.

A shout went up. “A runner approaches.”

Papi, the famous ginger cat, galloped in to great applause and cheers. The door was shut and locked behind him.

Locals crowded around the dashing feline. “What’s the word, Papi? What’s it like out there?”

The heroic floof’s amber eyes flashed. His tail slashed the air. “Snow. Everywhere. Up to my belly. And still, it snows. Quick, I need food. Hurry, damn it.”

It’s been about sixteen hours straight of snow falling. Am I sure that it didn’t stop in the night? No. But it was falling whenever I looked. This is the small, dry powdery stuff. Little relative moisture in it. And it’s piling up. Eight inches in some places around my Ashlandia patch. No wind, so there’s no drifts.

It’s Tuesday, February 28, 2022. Sunrise’s ticket was punched at 6:48 AM. Sunset: (trumpet flourish) 6 PM.

The sky is white, as is the ground, and white stuff religiously falls. It’s like the white album. 30 degrees F out there, so not too cold. Today’s high will be 35. Tonight’s line will be 29. It’s a narrow operating margin. Feels like a good day to stay home. Drink coffee, read, write. Got books, will sit. And we have heat, power, all those things, and food. We’re in good shape compared to quake and tornado victims, and homeless folks. The city and churches have opened shelters and established places for people to go. Breakfast and dinner is served.

The Neurons are showing an impish side, playing Billy Idol’s “White Wedding” (1982). “It’s a nice day, for a, white wedding,” Idol sneers. “It’s a nice day to start again.”

Okay.

Stay pos. Hope you’re doing well wherever you be on this day, and that good things happen for you, to you, etc. Coffee is served. Here is Billy. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

My fellow Earthers. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. It’s also Friday, December 9, 2022.

I’ve been following a local online debate. A newly elected city councilor wants to change the time when the meeting begins, move it up an hour. He argues that will allow more people to attend. Well, let the debate begin.

  1. Moving the meeting an hour forward will allow more people to attend, those in favor say. Some moms have said, “Yes, I can attend at four, but I can’t attend at five.” The meeting goes for three hours.
  2. No, others say. “I’m still at work at four, or I’m driving home. I can attend at five but not at four.”

So each side uses the same argument. There were no complaints or calls for the meeting start time to change before the new councilor brought it up. Also, each side points out, the meetings are televised, streamed, and recorded. It feels like another variation of the daylight savings time argument, which can be reduced to, which is better for me? By extension, if it’s better for me, it’s better for all.

It’s foggy outside, Alexa tells me, and 34 F. She’s staked today’s high at 46 F. Says, expect rain. Except there’s no fog outside my windows. I can see distant mountains where snow is sprinkled across the green pine ridge. The winds are picking up. A drizzle has begun. The house floofs are not happy. They’re clambering for reparations because the sun isn’t giving them the shine they like. All reparations have been rejected — kibble, canned food, treats, and catnip. Attention is okay, they admit. They will take some scratching and stroking, but when I stop, they shout, more, more, more, like Billy Idol in fur, with less piercings.

As for the sun, it curved over the earth’s shape and into our valley at 7:28 this morning but remains sequestered behind sturdy clouds. Departure time for sunshine is 4:39 PM.

You can probably guess the song will be Billy Idol with “Rebel Yell” from 1983. Soon as that comparison went through my gray matter, The Neurons exclaimed, “Ooh, ‘Rebel Yell’, Billy Idol, yeah,” and began playing the song. Bourbon called Rebel Yell inspired the tune. I guess that’s a kind of scratching that satisfies some itches.

Speaking of scratches and itches, I’ll need some coffee. This is the first day of the rest of my life, you know. Stay positive and test negative. Here’s Billy with the music. I must admit that the video, with the musicians sneering, smirking, and posturing, gave me a laugh. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Welcome to Monday, July 18, 2022. Current temp is 16 C. Projected high temp is 92 F. Sunshine cracked the vault above at 5:50 AM, with the sun projected to remain in this vicinity until 8:43 PM. The daylight hours are winding down toward the shortest day of the year for the valley in December.

Being home means the vacation has ended. That means we return to healthy eating. Not that we abandoned it during the vacation. But now we must make our meals. Well, not must. It’s how we’re conditioned as responsible adults. Suggesting doing otherwise is irresponsible. So says my wife. It’s also expensive. And boring; we’re not thrilled by our local eatery options of late. Listen to me whine. Talk about being entitled and privileged, yeah?

Billy Idol’s 1984 song, “Eyes Without A Face”, occupies the morning mental music stream. That came from The Neurons, who jumped all over the phrase, it’s hard to get relief. They converted that into Idol’s lyric, “But hard to get release.” Stupid neurons. Of course, I have strong memories of this song coming out when I was stationed on Okinawa in the USAF.

Stay chill, hope for the best, do your thing but take the tests. The tests are limited help with the current COVID variants circulating. Friend after friend mentions being negative, isolating, and testing again, and coming up positive. Fingers crossed for you all, yeah?

Okay, getting coffee. Also, need to have a garage door repaired. A panel has bowed. I want to reinforce it with a strut, but my vehicle isn’t large enough for the strut length required. So I’m going to a pro for this repair.

Have a better one. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Today is Thursday, February 17, 2022. A few sketchy cloud islands keep the sky from achieving a perfect blue. A robust sun brought the light and heat at 7:05 AM. Temperatures have climbed quickly. It’s 46 F now and we expect a high of 61 F before the Earth’s spin steals the sun from our sector at 5:46 PM.

I’m feeling a little off today. Not sick or anything. Just behind on my routines. Explanation:

I have a young ginger cat. We’ll call him Trouble, which is not his real name, but I want to protect his privacy. After going out at two AM and coming back in at two twenty (it was a cold night, about 29 F), At 5:42 AM, Trouble woke me again with his song of his need to leave again, to be wild and free, outside. I let him out and used the bathroom. While in there, the sick cat asked for food. “Okay, I’ll feed you, baby,” I said. I had a can open for him, got him the food, and settled back into bed.

Or tried. Tucker, the house’s Prime Floof, had taken over my spot and was purring like a revving motocycle. I tried shifting him, but cats can multiply their body weight by over one thousand percent at will, and I couldn’t budge him. I had to reconfigure myself and my space.

That was when Trouble came knocking to come back in.

I let Trouble in. He proceeded to tell off sick cat. I provided sick cat with another helping of food. 6:15. Back to bed. A few minutes later, sick cat began beating his water bowl and complaining. I got up to address his issue. Water bowl was empty. But I’d just filled it last night —

“Yeah, whatever,” reality said, “it’s empty now.” I refilled the water bowl. Went back to bed.

Trouble arrived. Could I please let him out, OMG, it’s so important that I let him out now.

AAARGH.

I let Trouble out and lectured him about what he was doing to me. Returned to bed. Drifted to sleep reflecting on remembered dreams.

Guess who came knocking to come back in?

It was now eight. I’m usually up by now but I felt exhausted. I began exercising, which will usually stir up enough blood movement to reach the point that I can get to the kitchen, make coffee, and resuscitate my heart. “More sleep,” my body whispered with seductive tones. “You got it,” my brain replied, because he’s such a pushover.

Back to bed I went and did not get up until ten AM.

When I saw the time, my brain shrieked, “Ten AM! OMG. I’m in bed so late.” My body replied. “So? You don’t work. You have no employment. What difference does it make?”

“I still have things to do,” I reply with royal indignation, “like drink coffee, for example.”

“And feed cats,” sick cat said.

I have a song, “Uprising” by Muse in the morning mental music stream. I did it as a theme song not long ago and don’t want to repeat it today. That forced me to find another song. Nothing was coming to mind. The neurons finally started circulating “Cradle Of Love” by Billy Idol (1990). “Why?” I asked the neurons. “Because we like it,” they said, then went on with petulance, “Why not?”

Right. Why not.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and boosters when you’re able. Here’s the music. I’m crawling into the kitchen for some coffee. Cheers

Tuesday Theme Music

Wearing a black arm band…again. Another mass shooting in the United States took place in Boulder, Colorado, where a 21-year-old man killed ten people at a grocery store.

Here comes the cycle. We’ll hear about hearts and prayers. Then people will say, “Now is not the time to talk about gun control.” The NRA will launch a publicity campaign. We’ll hear that Biden (again) is coming for your guns. Gun and ammo sales will rise. Arguments will rage about whether automatic weapons should be readily available to anyone and the meaning of the Second Amendment. Then, finally, something will happen: there will be another shooting. The cycle will begin again.

Today is Tuesday, March 23, 2021. Doesn’t look much different in the sky, where pearlescent white clouds flirt with bright blue and sunshine soaks us.

Sol appeared at 7:09 AM over the Ashland sky, and will depart at 7:23 PM.

Dreams again dictate my music preference for the day’s theme music. I dreamed about a wedding, so Billy Idol’s “White Wedding” leaped into the morning’s mental musical mash up. But I’ve done that song a few times. I instead convinced myself to feature “Eyes Without A Face” from 1984. It’ll do.

Try staying positive. COVID-19 news is mostly good in the United States. Some hotspots remain. We’re in danger of new spikes because of complacency and carelessness, but vaccinations are progressing, despite some people fearing it because they’re anti-vaxxers, or because they believe something like Bill Gates is using the vaccines to chip and follow them, or that COVID-19 is overblown or a hoax, and that millions around the world haven’t died or aren’t hospitalized. Try staying positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax.

Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Okay, take me to court. Today is a repeat from 2017. Sue me.

I awoke with Billy Idol blasting “White Wedding” into my mental stream. I knew I’d posted it before and looked it up.

It was a brief post pre-NC (novel coronavirus).

But, then, naw…”Rebel Yell” began streaming, and quickly segued into one of my favorite Billy Idol tunes, “White Wedding.” “It’s a nice day to start again.”

It’s cooler today, with a projected high of just eighty-eight under clear blue skies. Definitely a nice day to start again. Here it is, Billy Idol, from nineteen eighty-two, when I was just a wee man of twenty-six years. Boy, what would need to be sacrificed to be twenty-six again, hey?

Which is exactly where my mind is today, you know, the start again part. It seems like we’re always starting again, beginning again. You clean the house, and then it’s time to clean it again. For me, it’s the bathroom and the yard. Did the front yard on Monday, went polished the wooden cabinets in the kitchens and bathrooms, and polished the furniture in the master bedroom. Now it’s, clean the bathroom, vacuum the office, and work on the back yard.

Oh, yes, and there’s writing.

“It’s a nice day to start agaaaiiinnn.” Right after I have a cup of coffee. Maybe two.

Friday’s Theme Music

Weather – hot. Summer: hot. City: hot.

Three entertaining songs about the heat, city, and summer. It’s like a tradition for me to ply ’em in my head as the city heat addresses my body.

Billy Idol, “Hot in the City“, 1982.

Hot Child in the City“, Nick Gilder, 1978.

And “Summer in the City” ,1966, The Lovin’ Spoonful.

Enjoy the heat. That is all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3-6mOmEP9U

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rts7Qdew3HE

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